Diplomacy
by Reigen Doki
Summary: Why yes, aliens did make them do it. Old cliche. Starting off with a diplomatic kiss...does that count as a title drop? Most definitely Kirk/Spock and certainly not to be taken seriously. Completely for the sake of craziness.


**I don't own Star Trek.**

**Someone asked me about my opinion on the "over used" idea of 'aliens made them do it'. I felt the…illogical…need to do a fic based on the whole concept. So…tada. Kirk/Spock crack.**

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

"Run that by me again." Jim said, a little breathless.

He had to be hearing this wrong. Uhura winced though. And that was in no way encouraging.

"It's a display of openness captain." She went on. "Showing how comfortable you are with them."

"You aren't…I mean…I heard that wrong. Start over." Jim heard a few snorts of laughter and felt a vague sense of panic in his chest.

Uhura nodded, uncomfortably. "They are requesting you and Commander Spock beam down for negotiations. You will be required to perform a…uh…ritual to prove you will be honest in negotiations. "

"And _what_ exactly does this ritual entail?" Jim asked, a touch of desperate panic in his voice.

"The…uh…the officials leading the negotiations will share a…uh…kiss. Then you and Spock will be expected to…reciprocate."

"Stop. Stop. Stop." Jim raised his hands. "That's where you're loosing me."

"Captain, she is being quite clear about what is expected of us." Spock interjected, sounding completely calm about this.

A few more snickers. Well shit.

"You seem awfully comfortable with this." Jim accused.

"The trade agreement is crucial for the Federation. As such, it is important we facilitate negotiations in any way possible." Damn his logic.

"Okay. Fine. There's no reason why this has to be awkward." Jim grimaced at the amused looks of his crew. "Go on explaining."

Uhura hesitated. "After you and Spock kiss. The delegates will kiss again, harder. You'll have to kiss him again-"

Jim made a high pitched whining sound. "You mean I have to do this more than once?"

"And uh…harder than the previous time. They'll kiss again and-"

"Oh god, seriously?" Jim buried his face in his hands. "Can this get worse?"

"You have to get increasingly more…intimate with each kiss." Uhura patted his arm when he made a strangled little cry. "And you'll have to one up the delegates. So try not to go too overboard trying to get it over with the first two times, because they'll be one upping you too."

"Why? Why all this?" He sobbed from beneath his hands.

"I told you, a display of openness. Trying to prove you're more open then they are. And six is a sacred number in their culture, so that is why three times each." Uhura looked guiltily at him. "I'm sorry. There isn't much choice."

"You won't hate me forever for this, right?"

Uhura assumed it was directed at Spock, since Jim knew they had stopped dating the second day after they shipped out. It had been almost three months. Spock and Jim had a tentative not hating each other thing going on. It wasn't bad, actually, but there was no way they were friends enough to go around casually making out. And that was what he was being asked to do.

No one answered his question, so he groaned and stood up.

"Okay." Jim sighed. "Okay. We beam down in two hours. I…uh…I'll be ready to go by then. So yeah. Meeting adjourned."

… .. . .. …

Jim gulped, nodding to Scotty. "Energize."

There was a moment of blinding white and general nothingness, which he almost wished would go on forever, before he rematerialized. The first thing he noticed was the awful, humid heat. Then the officials standing there.

They were a surprisingly good looking species. They had two sets of large metallic eyes, shimmering an array of beautiful colors. Their ears were oddly conical and they had a plethora of metal bangles adorning them. Including their tails. Yup, long, prehensile tails from the base of their spines. And their skin was a sparkly, glittery mix of colors ranging from pale pink to deep green. Like shades of pearls. It was beautiful, and a little intimidating.

One negotiator, who he recognized at the one directing negotiations, smiled and bowed her head, placing a hand over her chest. Her chest, which was barely covered by an iridescent, sheer cloth draped over it. All of their clothing was made of nearly sheer or sheer cloth, made opaque only by the utterly large number of times they overlapped in some places.

Jim placed his hand over his heart and bowed deeply to her.

"Welcome, ship lord Kirk."

Jim almost cringed, hating how they translated things. "I am most welcomed to be here, ambassador mistress Neekla."

She offered him a pretty smile, and turned to her companion. Jim grinned salaciously back at her, hiding the nervousness with what was about to happen. She placed a delicate hand on her partner's chest and placed a soft peck on his lips, before turning expectantly to Jim.

Nervously, he turned to Spock, who was standing there like absolutely nothing was going to happen. Jim licked his lips nervously and leaned close, bracing himself against Spock's chest. Shit he was warm, and so firm. It was definitely like leaning into a robot. Gently, and mindful of the fact that their kiss had to be more intimate then the one he'd just seen but not too steamy, he pressed their lips together. Their lips moved against each other, a slick shifting of pressure.

Jim pulled back, feeling a little hazy. Gulping, he avoided looking in Spock's eyes, turning expectantly to Neekla, who looked _extremely_ pleased. She turned and kissed her partner hard, their mouths sliding half open with a wet pop. Jim twitched. These people really didn't take this lightly, did they?

She turned her expectant eyes to him again, and he tried not to shudder at the look in them. Normally, he'd be thrilled to have a woman looking at him like that, but not when it was because he was about to make out with his first officer.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at the second of hesitation and Jim claimed his lips with a growl. To illustrate that he didn't like that Spock was effectively laughing at him, he bit his lower lip, followed by a quick thrust of his tongue into the other man's mouth. It was a bit, he thought humorously, like sticking his tongue in a cup of hot tea. Warm and almost too hot to taste. And actually a little dry, now that he noticed it. Apparently Spock didn't salivate like a human.

He pulled back after a couple seconds of working the Vulcan's mouth and noticed a dusting of green on his cheeks. That was going under the win column.

The two dignitaries looked stunned, their cheeks phosphorescing with their blushes, literally. Jim squirmed, trying to remember if Uhura had said anything specific about the sexual connotations behind tongues in their culture. He couldn't remember any, but that didn't mean there wasn't one they'd missed. It had happened before.

With a moment's hesitation, Neekla placed one hand on her companion's chest, the other tangling in his hair. Their tails wrapped around each other the same time she pressed their lips together and started pressing harshly. With one hand, her companion cupped her rear, stroking the base of her tail, the other curled around her shoulder. They pulled back a little breathless almost thirty seconds later and looked nervously at Jim and Spock.

Jim glanced at Spock, who had both eyebrows up in his hair line. Jim gave him an embarrassed smile and shrugged.

Spock rather forcefully gripped his hips, dragging him into him before he got a chance to move his hands. Jim squeaked, arms trapped between them and Spock dipped his head and, in full view of their hosts, licked a strip up Jim's throat. Jim shuddered and tilted his head, there was no way he was going to let Spock humiliate him like that, and bit Spock's ear. Spock growled, yanking himself back and crushing their lips together. The momentary break was enough for Jim to get his hands free, wrapped around Spock's waist, trailing up his back, _scratching_ his way down his shoulder blades.

And Spock shifted, so his leg was between Jim's. Jim figured he could be excused the hitch of his breath, given he'd just had a hot brand shoved between his legs. He shoved his hands up the back of Spock's shirt, using that temperature difference to elicit a reaction. And it did, as Spock sighed into his mouth. Jim sucked on the tongue poffered to his mouth, obscenely coating Spock with his spit. Spock's hands tightened on his hips, dragging him tighter against his leg.

Jim broke back with a husky gasp, arching against the furnace in front of him. And was promptly surrounded by cold air as all the heat seemed to vacate his area with Spock. Perfectly professional, Jim didn't miss a beat, turning to their guests and smiling expectantly.

Their entire faces were glowing with their embarrassment. Without further adieu, they lead them on to negotiations. It was an extremely productive session. Apparently practically having sex with your clothes on in front of people was an encouraging thing. They seemed more than willing to supply Jim with everything he asked for. Best negotiation yet.

And he and Spock said absolutely nothing about their little make out session.

… .. . .. …

With results like they had on that planet, it was no wonder they were invited to do another set of negotiations. Jim was mildly anxious at first, but relaxed when his entire crew was invited. How likely was he to get in trouble when he was allowed Uhura _and_ McCoy?

Everyone had forgotten one important factor when making their incredibly slim calculations for that.

Specifically, Jim.

To be fair, no one had known they weren't supposed to touch the vaguely cat like creatures allowed to wander freely. Spock had been a few seconds from petting one himself when Jim scratched it under the chin. Animals did love him. The cries of heresy made it clear that the natives really didn't care what the animals thought of him, he still wasn't allowed to touch them.

Uhura was talking quickly with them, trying to figure out what she could do. It was finally revealed that one of his companions had to administer the punishment. Apparently they considered it highly embarrassing to receive retribution from someone of a lower position. They refused, however to tell her what exactly his punishment would be.

So naturally Bones insisted he should be the one to dole out the punishment.

So naturally Spock was the one doing it.

Jim would have found it funny that he got in trouble for Spock's usual, look at the animal it's fascinating behavior, but he had no idea what they wanted him to do. And that worried him immensely.

He was lead to a central square, practically running to keep from being dragged by the leather binds around his hands and throat. In the center of the square was a marble slab raised out of the ground. Centered in it was a sturdy, hardwood pillory. Jim tensed, but kept up. He wasn't keen on any punishment that locked up his hands and head and left him bent over, defenseless. He heard Bones cuss somewhere at his back. They had been following closely, keeping up a steady litany of protest.

"We'll get Giotto." Bones called as he was kept from climbing the dais. "We'll-"

"No." Jim called back over his shoulder. "Let this play out. Spock, take the lead for now."

He was choked off by a sharp tug on his throat, but Spock nodded in understanding. He liked to imagine he saw a hint of worry there. His crew stared up at him as he was shoved into place, eyes begging for permission to do something. Jim bowed his head and the wood settled in. He could already feel the ache of being curved in such an unnatural position. Who knew how long they were going to keep him there? And that was before he had to face any kind of punishment.

They took Spock to the temple, telling him he had to sit vigil the entire night. It was no difficulty for him, and he showed no stiffness or lack of awareness when they returned for him. After the night in the darkened room, the white marble dais was almost blinding. A crowed had gathered of the natives, calling out their anger. At the forefront, staring up at Jim as they had been when he was first brought there, was the rest of his crew.

Sweat was dripping down Jim's temple, the heat of the sun baking him, his face flushed with it. His eyes were shut tight, the white light too sharp for him. His lips were pulled apart in a silent grimace, his body heaving with each painful breath. He had remained untouched through the night, the natives too afraid of their gods to abuse him. The position itself was painful. There was only the slightest hint of trembling in Jim's knees, visible only if one stared for a particularly long time.

The head priest approached, a long, wooden box in his hands. When it was opened, proffering its content to Spock, he had to clench his fists and take a deep breath. The priest narrowed his eyes, a threat imminent in them.

Steady, like he was lifting the stylus to his PADD, he hefted the tight wrapped leather handle. Eight long strips of braded leather and silver trailed after it. The priest's voice was far away in his ears as he told him what to do. Tentatively, he placed his hand on Jim's back, feeling his breath hitch momentarily. Spock caught the edge of the gold tunic and black undershirt with his thumb, pushing it up to reveal golden skin. His hand skimmed back down the exposed flesh, feeling it warmed from the sun and damp with sweat.

It was strange, feeling his skin beneath his palm. But he could feel the understanding, the reassurance through their contact. Wordlessly, Jim was trying to convey that he should continue.

He stepped back, taking in the bowed image of his captain, grip tightening around the leather. He raised the lash, and the crowed fell silent. Bones was the only one not to turn, keeping his eyes locked on the pair. The rest of the crew refused to watch. Spock slid his legs apart, bracing himself, tensing up his shoulder. Letting his eyes fall shut, he started to move, swinging down. A sudden weight against his legs tripped him up, forcing him to bring the whip down to Jim's side, barely scoring him with one of the tails.

The crowed gasped in shock.

Spock glanced down, and big, green eyes glanced up. The felid creature from before weaved around his legs, rubbing its head against his boot. Jim said nothing from his beating, waiting in silence, the lash against his side welting and welling up with blood. The little creature detangled itself from Spock and wandered round to peer up at Jim.

Finally, he snorted. "Haven't you gotten me in enough trouble yet?"

It made an odd quacking sound and stood on its hind legs, bracing itself against the pillory as it stretched, pressing its cold nose to Jim's. He barked out a surprised laugh.

And suddenly everyone was moving. The priest and his guards were pulling Jim from the pillory and the crowd was being pushed back and Jim's crew was being rounded up. Jim stumbled on his feet, and Spock was there to catch him before he collapsed, keeping him up as they were all but dragged to the temple. McCoy was pushed through before even the other members of the crew, trained eyes looking Jim over.

"Well this is turning into an interesting mission." Jim murmured, wincing as Bones prodded the welt on his side.

"I believe that is what you would call an understatement, Captain."

And suddenly negotiations were going wonderfully. Supposedly it was a sign from their deities that they should trust Jim. He and his crew were given wonderful rooms and were being lavished upon against their will.

… .. . .. …

"I don't care where you put them!" Jim cried in exasperation.

McCoy snorted, watching another potted plant take up residence in Jim's room. "I can't find anything sign you're allergic to them, so you'll just have to live with being a messiah for a while."

"I get to keep one, right?" Sulu asked earnestly, prodding the night bloom and wishing he could hang around to see it.

"Yes, okay. You can't take one now or they'll get pissed at you." Jim explained, flopping back on the pile of pillows they had given him and called a bed.

That probably had something to do with their ideas of comfort. The rest of their furniture looked like torture devices, designed to stimulate pressure points or something. Pillories were just uncomfortable for everyone apparently. So everyone got to have these weird piles of pillows and loose, silky robes for sleeping. Now if only they'd let them finish negotiations and leave.

Spock glanced up from where he was working on some paperwork. "I suspect the captain is correct. These flowers hold religious significance to them. As the felids they associate with their deities have chosen to approach us of their own volition, they feel we have been chosen by their deities. While they extend trust to the crew, they do not believe you to be chosen, and therefore are unworthy of the same attentions. Given their belief system, it is not an illogical confidence."

Jim sighed, rolling his eyes. "That was a mouthful just to reaffirm what I already said."

Spock quirked an eyebrow and returned to his work. McCoy scoffed. Uhura glanced around the room from where she had been cataloguing terms for the universal translator.

"I think it might be getting a bit ridiculous."

It was. The room was covered in flowers. The only things free were the spots the crew was currently occupying, the large tub in the corner, and the large pile of pillows Jim and Spock were expected to share. There were little comments made about that. They were both 'chosen' so they were expected to share a room.

Jim snapped his eyes open as the door to the room opened again and several women entered, carrying basins between them. "You have got to be kidding me."

"We bring oils for your bath." One woman announced, earning a loud, frustrated groan.

"Do I look like I'm taking a bath?"

She blinked at him in surprise. "Why, no. Of course not. But the oils will be here for you when you desire to do so."

"What is it made of?" McCoy asked with a sigh, heaving himself up to inspect the clear, lavender liquid they were pouring into the tub.

"The very flowers that surround us."

McCoy snorted and sat back down. "I'd say you're stuck with it, Jimmy. I hope you enjoy how those flowers smell, because that's going to be the only thing you'll be breathing in tonight."

The women left again, never disturbing a single potted plant. Jim groaned. "When's sundown?"

"An hour." Uhura told him, glancing out the window. "Should we go back to our own rooms?"

"Yes." McCoy answered for Jim. "He's been running around _negotiating_ all day rather than resting."

"Don't say that like it's a dirty word, Bones." Jim told him, sighing and closing his eyes. "That's what we came here to do."

Jim allowed himself to doze off for a bit when they left, exhausted from the ordeal. This definitely wasn't going as well as the last negotiations. Jim blushed a bit and snuggled closer to the pillows, trying not to think of kissing Spock, or the feel of his hand sliding over his back. It had been a very awkward week getting to their next assignment. Because try as they might, there was some discomfort looking at each other after having their tongues in each other's throats.

Jim shivered and groaned as a blast of cold air washed over him.

"The sun is setting." Spock told him from across the room, having apparently noticed Jim's discomfort.

He sat up, looking over at the window, where Spock was leaning half out. Curious, he rose and weaved his way to the window beside Spock. The sky was a wash of creamy violets and velvety purples. Jim's lips curved up into a grin and he elbowed Spock gently.

"Thanks."

"For what, Captain?"

"For being willing to do that, back there." Jim shrugged. "Bones wouldn't have been able to do it."

"I do not believe it is commendable that I should harm you."

"What?" Jim frowned, turning to him. "Hey. You were doing what was necessary. I can always trust you-"

Jim froze, hand flying up to his head as he let out a low keen. Spock glanced over at him worriedly, before letting his eyes drift to the room, where the flowers were. The entire room was a wash of gleaming purple flowers, like a private garden.

"Are the flowers affecting you adversely?"

"No…They're just…strong." Jim whimpered a bit, weaving through the pots as he headed back towards the pillows.

Spock followed, eyebrows creased with a frown. "If the scent is too much, you may relocate."

It was a sweet scent, cloying and piercing. If he were prompted, he would admit the smell was reminiscent of mint and entirely unpleasant and had a slightly numbing quantity about it. He could hardly blame Jim for disliking it.

"It get's better, the longer you're in the room." Jim's voice sounded low to his ears, husky and warm.

"Captain are you…" Spock shook his head, thoughts suddenly feeling heavy and cumbersome. "Are you…"

"Am I what?" Jim purred, spinning around to face him.

"I…" Spock frowned, finding it particularly difficult to form a coherent thought. "I do not know."

Jim laughed, his voice a ringing, beautiful tone. With a grin, he braced on hand on Spock's arm and leaned over, nearly toppling into the potted flowers to dip his fingers in the bath tub full of oil. Jim brought the coated fingers up to investigate the oil, streaking it across his lips with a jerky, uncoordinated movement.

He laughed. "It smells just like the flowers."

"Indeed?" Spock leaned forward, darting his tongue over Jim's lips.

Some part of him was trying to freak out about doing so. It was drown out by the mint like plant, clouding much of anything like rational thought. Jim was no better off, surging forward to kiss him and _giggling_. It was an awkward tangle of teeth and lips and neither of them could find it in themselves to care. They couldn't even remember why they shouldn't be doing that.

Everything felt heavy, hazy. Spock pushed at the shoulders of Jim's robe and the blond struggled to help him slide it down. He buried his face in the exposed flesh of his neck, breathing deeply. Jim smelled pleasant and Spock breathed him in deeper, memorizing the scent through his haze. Jim groaned encouragingly, tangling his hands in Spock's hair and tugging him closer. Spock purred, filling his senses with Jim.

And suddenly his thoughts sharpened, cutting through the haze with painful clarity.

It took just a second for him to realize the effect the flowers were having on them. Face hot, he took another deep breath from the crook of Jim's neck and held it. Jim let out a whoop of laughter as Spock swept him up.

"Bed 's that way." Jim thumped his shoulder.

Spock shivered and shook his head. Jim frowned a moment, glancing around.

"I don't think bath tub sex is the best idea."

Spock gulped, still holding his breath as he vacated the room quickly. Jim was tugging at his ear, mumbling questions about why they were leaving the room. McCoy was just down the hall. Jim was officially pouting, squirming to get out of his grip. Spock tightened his grip, eliciting a deep, pleased moan, and knocked at the door. McCoy pulled it open, tricorder already in hand.

"What the hell?"

Spock imagined they must look quite the picture, with Jim half naked and both of them ruffled. "It would appear the flowers have an unforeseen affect."

"Oh?" McCoy asked, stepping to the side and running scans over the squirming captain.

"Why are we here?" Jim asked petulantly, apparently still under the effects of the flower. "Oh! Are you an exhibitionist?"

McCoy choked on air, glaring at a very green Vulcan. "Jim take a look at me."

Jim turned his head, still situated in Spock's arms, and met an eyeful of flashlight. "Gah. Spock, make him stop."

"I do not believe that is wise, Jim."

"He's stoned." McCoy snorted. "High as a god damn kite."

Spock looked down at Jim and quirked an eyebrow. "Fascinating."

McCoy narrowed his eyes, peering closer at Spock. "So are you. Not as bad, but you are. I need samples of this."

"Perhaps in the morning, Doctor." Spock told him, shifting Jim in his arms and getting a bemused laugh for his efforts. "I do not believe it is safe to enter the room at current, while the plants are still in bloom."

"Definitely not." McCoy agreed, clinically eyeing them with suspicion. "You two can sleep in here. I'll go bunk with Sulu."

Spock suddenly looked very uncomfortable and McCoy couldn't help but snort. "I would advise you not to let Jim out of your sight, Doctor. It would be…comforting, to know you were ensuring the Captain's health."

Jim chuckled, burying his face against Spock's shoulder. "I'd _rather_ stay with you."

McCoy took one look at Spock's viridian face and took pity on him. "Fine. Drop him on the pillows. I'll look after him. Go bunk with Uhura."

Jim tightened his grip immediately. "Nu-uh. She can't have him. She gave him up and he's mine now."

McCoy whistled, low and long. "This is golden. I am never letting him live this down."

"I can hear you."

Spock attempted to place Jim down, and was tugged off balance to crash over onto him. McCoy bit his lip to keep from bursting out laughing as the normally graceful Vulcan scrambled away, poise shattered by embarrassment and drugs. He made a vain attempt to straighten himself and scurried out of the room. Jim was lounging in the pillows, arms folded petulantly across his chest, half glaring, half pouting at McCoy.

"You're going to be mortified when you come down from this high."

He was. Spock and Jim could barely look at each other for the rest of negotiations. McCoy took a large sample of the oils for analysis and Jim and Spock each, awkwardly, took a plant back to the ship for Sulu to have.

Negotiations went great though. Apparently being the chosen of some deities was hot stuff. Jim was beginning to think the universe was trying to make up for all the embarrassment it was heaping on him.

… .. . .. …

Considering the last two missions they'd had, Jim's request for shore leave was met with a resounding yes. It was a given that they couldn't possibly get into trouble on shore leave. Of course, they were sent to a near by planet that had a fairly friendly trading agreement with the Federation. Everyone was more than enthusiastic to get the time off on real land.

It was a pretty planet, all pale, colorful sand, multicolor plants with flashy leaves and delicate, dazzling flowers, and the animals were all so bright to blend in. Everything seemed to get a rosy hue from the sun and the sky was a soft pink. Hit to his masculinity or not, Jim loved it.

The crew was welcomed with open arms and directed to a hotel where they were given free rooms. The magnificent garden was open to their use, though they were encouraged to wander into the forest surrounding the little hallow.

"So who wants to go into the dark and pretty forest?" Jim asked around breakfast their first morning there.

"No way am I going into that forest." McCoy told him, huffing.

"I…uh…I'm actually cataloguing all the flowers in the garden, right now." Sulu said bashfully. "I figured I'd get around to the forest if I still had time for it."

"Da? I em being allouved to play vith stargazing telescope. Iz wery nice." Chekov sighed happily.

Scotty never looked up from his engineering magazine, which said more than enough about his involvement.

Uhura cast a doubtful look his direction. "One of the natives agreed to teach me the official language, so I don't have to use the translator. It's probably going to take a while."

Jim sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Oh fine. I'll go alone."

"I do not believe that is wise, Captain." Spock told him as he entered the room. "I will accompany you."

McCoy threw up his arms. "Genius. Instead of being eaten by some animal he'll have to deal with you."

Uhura managed to cover her snort with an awkward cough. "Ah. I think I should get some tea. This language is hard on my throat."

"Yeah. Sure." Jim eyed her a moment. "When do you want to go, Spock?"

"I should be prepared to leave after lunch."

"Sweet." Jim grinned.

"Just be careful." McCoy sighed. "The natives were mentioning a storm coming in. The last thing you need is to be caught in some mess like that."

"Relax Bones. We won't go _that_ far."

… .. . .. …

"This is so worth it." Jim sighed, relaxing against a white rock in the sun and closing his eyes.

Spock knelt next to a small, squirrelly creature. "Indeed."

It chattered at him and Jim grinned. The wind was picking up, blowing the scent of sweet, damp leaves through the forest. Jim waited until the creature scampered off and hopped up.

"It smells like rain."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. Slowly, taking a slightly different path than before, they started back towards the city. The sky was darkening rapidly and tinting everything a bloody red. Jim frowned, nervousness rising up at the sudden ambience. The wind took a biting edge, not exactly cold, but stinging.

"Maybe we shouldn't have stayed out so long." Jim murmured thoughtfully.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Spock eyed him.

The first few fat drops of water started landing in the foliage with sloppy plops and Jim shuddered. "A little."

A torrent let loose, drowning the vegetation and soaking through the canopy with sheer force. Jim hissed, raising his arms over his head in a protective measure that did nothing. Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, before glancing at the sky and continuing on. Jim trotted to keep up before slipping on wet leaves and reaching out to catch himself on a tree. Spock froze when Jim cried out in pain and rounded on him to see him cradling his hand to his chest, a horrified look on his face.

"Jim?" Spock reached for his wrist to inspect the damage.

"What the hell was that?" Jim snapped, shaking his hand out.

Spock caught the edge of his shirt and yanked his hand back as a sharp stab of pain raced through his hand. Jim winced as the fabric rubbed on his wrist. They both stared at each other a moment, before turning their gazes skyward.

"No way." Jim whispered.

"Captain, I believe the rain has hypersensitized our skin."

"Oh that's just fucking great!" Jim shouted at no one in particular, throwing his hands out in exasperation.

"Fascinating." Spock murmured, reaching out to touch a nearby plant.

Pain, duller than before, raced through the touch. Jim mimicked the movement, hissing as the touch burned into his skin. With out thinking, he started forward again, and slipped on the same leaves to catch him before. Naturally, he slammed into Spock, howling in pain at the sudden contact. Spock physically gritted his teeth as they crashed to the ground. Jim made to move away, and the friction laced pain through them.

Spock grabbed him instinctually to hold him still, one hand pressing gently into his back to still him, the other catching his head. Jim froze, eyes widening at the sensation that suddenly didn't seem near as painful as before. Spock's breath hitched as every nerve ending in his already sensitive fingers registered the feel of Jim's hair.

Jim groaned involuntarily. "Please, please do that again."

Spock complied, stifling a groan of his own as Jim rolled his eyes back and whimpered. "Fascinating."

"I swear, I'll do anything you want just _please_ don't stop doing that." He would be embarrassed by that little statement, but the majority of his brain power was being devoted to processing that sensation.

Spock's chest heaved as he scrubbed one hand through Jim's hair and his other hand flew up to Jim's face. The second his fingers touched his meld points he was plunged into the other's mind, a chaotic, swirling mess of oversensitive nerves trying to process the sensations it was being subjected to.

When they came down from the meld, it had already stopped raining. From his spot curled up on top of the Vulcan, Jim noted, not humorlessly, that Spock had continued as he asked and was still absentmindedly raking his fingers through his hair. They noticed simultaneously that they were half dry and their clothes were sticking to them uncomfortably. Jim swore, yanking himself away from his first officer and blushing scarlet.

"Can we pretend that didn't happen?"

Spock sat up, looking thoroughly out of it and extremely uncomfortable. "I believe that would be best, Captain."

They crew was absolutely worried when they returned. Jim and Spock pointedly didn't talk about what they did while they were caught in the storm. That didn't stop McCoy from taking scans of them before they had a chance to get cleaned up and eyeing them awkwardly for the rest of the shore leave.

… .. . .. …

He should have known something was wrong. The second Spock stopped hassling him about his paperwork, he should have known something was wrong. He should have gotten worried when, after days of not eating or reporting to the bridge, Spock didn't send him a status report on whatever project he was working on. He should have panicked, when Spock didn't answer the door, because Spock never refused to see him, even after the awkward things they'd gone through.

He should have known. And he should have forced it out of Spock when he went off on nurse Chapel.

Now he was pacing through Sickbay, listening to the diagnosis. Spock was going to die. Spock was going to die and there was nothing they could do because he wouldn't tell anyone what was happening. The only thing Jim could do was ponder at Spock's insistence he head to New Vulcan.

It was possible there was some cure there, some way to save him. It was possible he could…

He was in Spock's rooms in a second, demanding information from him. He wasn't particularly forthcoming. Jim would be damned, though, if he had to pry it from his cold dead lips. His insistence as much finally cracked the stoic man. Spock began to explain.

And Jim was almost too furious to speak.

That Spock could keep something so important from him…

That Spock would wait so long, would _never_ have told him, just for his damn pride.

Jim punched him in the jaw. Spock growled, lunging back and shoving him into the wall. Jim gasped, and promptly fell to the ground as Spock backed into the far corner.

"Leave, Jim. Please leave. I…I can not control myself. I can _not_ be allowed to hurt you."

Jim nodded dumbly, racing to the bridge and ordering an about face to New Vulcan. Chekov made a cheeky comment about them changing course again, and was promptly silenced by a feral growl and a seething glare.

"Did I ask you to change course again?"

"N-net, Keptin. I vas only making light."

"Well don't."

"He was just-"

"Stay out of it Sulu." Jim snapped.

The entire bridge drew in a sharp breath and held it as Jim paced the length like a caged animal before heading to the turbo lift. "I'll be in sickbay if you need me."

… .. . .. …

When, not if, they all got out of this, Jim was going to give Sarek hell for his taste in potential wives for Spock. He mused on the irony that a man who obviously made such a good decision in Spock's mother was capable of picking such a bitch to marry his son. It was not, he noticed a moment later, a time for musing, as the blade of Spock's lirpa ripped through his golden shirt and slashed his chest.

Jim shuddered when Spock struck his lirpa against the stone hard enough to shatter it, knowing just how well tempered the blades were. Jim panted as the fighting was called to a halt, eyeing the weighted straps being handed to them.

There was no way he was going to be able to keep up fighting at that pace.

When Spock pinned him to the ground, Jim caught his hand. It seemed to stall him just long enough for Jim to bring his hand to his meld points. Spock's blood darkened eyes widened and he took the invitation immediately, plunging them both into a fevered, pitching meld. If Jim wondered if they would ever have a normal meld, it was drown somewhere under the waves of white hot, painful need.

Spock broke the meld and, if they'd bothered turning to the side, he'd see the shocked looks of the onlookers. Jim was far too clouded with the bloodlust to think beyond the man currently pinning him to the ground.

Spock rocked forward, pressing their lips together incessantly. Jim arched up, wrapping his arms around him to pull him down. They laid like that a moment, lips crashing together before Spock pulled back, eyes clear and a little full of embarrassment. Jim grinned wildly at him and pushed him up, off of him.

"It's about time you snapped out of it you crazy bastard."

"Jim!" Spock wrapped him up in an enthusiastic hug, before Bones coughed and ruined the moment.

Spock straightened himself, pretending he wasn't covered in dirt from rolling around on the ground suggestively with his best friend and captain. Jim leapt to his feet, manically happy that the meld had worked to pull Spock out of his fever, and was met with the shocked faces of several Vulcans. It was a dull shock, barely counting as a facial expression, but it _did_ count.

… .. . .. …

Jim swore, ducking behind a convenient outcropping of rock as gun fire peppered past his head. "Routine my ass! Routine is bat shit insane on this ship!"

"Captain, Ensign Carlisle is dead." Spock announced, withdrawing his hand from the man's pulse point.

"Shit. All three of my security officers are dead?" Jim dropped to his knees, placing his hand on the deceased man's shoulder. "I-I can't focus on that right now. _We_ still have to get out of here."

It wasn't long before all hell broke loose. Jim was winged by the men chasing them as they moved positions, forcing him to run on an injured leg. The explosion earlier had left his ears ringing and, if he was reading the signals right, which he was, there was no way to contact the Enterprise.

Spock's shoulder was bleeding. He'd been standing right next to the bomb when it went off. Well…just on the other side of the wall from it, but still. It was close enough that he'd been hit with shrapnel. They were out of the city now, and getting as far from the blasting zone, and whatever they were using as a jammer, as possible.

"We can't keep running like this!" Jim panted.

"If we can get to the outcropping ahead, we should be capable of beaming back aboard." Spock insisted, hauling on Jim's arm to keep him running at a fast pace.

… .. . .. …

Jim gasped, ducking sideways to hide himself from view. Spock glanced down at him, where he pressed tight against his chest. Jim was careful not to put pressure on his first officer's shoulder as he braced against him, leg no longer capable of holding up his weight. Spock curled his arms around Jim's waist, and leaned down to nuzzle his ear.

Jim chuckled, burying his face in Spock's collar. "We're going to get caught."

"I believe the correct phrasing is 'so let them catch us', yes?" Spock traced patterns across Jim's back.

"Mm." Jim agreed tilting his head up to catch Spock's lips.

"Jesus Christ!" McCoy froze, dropping a tray of medical equipment. "What the hell are you doing? You're both still injured! And in my sickbay! Get off of each other and get back to your beds!"

Jim grinned, lacing his fingers behind Spock's head. "Sorry Bones, aliens made us do it."

… .. . .. … … .. . .. … … .. . .. …

**Er…Did I already mention this was crack? Because it totally is. Hopefully decent crack though.**


End file.
